Gambling for a Pardon

The doorframe of the courthouse’s entrance was forcefully enlarged as two gold slot machine-like robots smashed through it. On the front of the machines were two large googly eyes. Their arms and legs were stiff and tube-like. On the ends of their hands were a set of golden crab like pincers. The two of them stood silently and motionless.

“I do hope this little gathering means you've come up with the money you owe.” A nasally British sounding accent echoed from behind the slot machines. Out from behind them stepped a flamboyantly dressed man. On his head he wore a blue feathered beret, which matched the blue puffy pants and vest he wore. Draped over his shoulders was a red cape with gold floral accents. From each of his ears dangled a red die from a gold chain.

Rolland placed a gray phony mustache on his face and replaced the powdered wig sitting on his head with a top hat, which I assumed was his mayor hat. He nervously approached the man. “S-sir Crapington, we weren't expecting you so soon. I thought we still had another month.”

"Ah, so if I’m understanding correctly… you don't have the money.” Sir Crapington passive aggressively sneered.

Rolland got on his hands and knees. “Please, tourism’s been a bit slow lately, but I'm sure it will pick up soon. Just give us a little extra time.”

“I’ve already granted you one extension. If I continue making exceptions, the rest of the villages within the province will assume I’ve gone soft.” He let out a snicker. “But you know what? You've caught me in a generous mood today. I'll give you one extra hour to bring me the tax money this town owes.”

“There's no way that's enough time.” Rolland pleaded.

“Well, then you better figure something out because if I don't have that money in front of me in one hour, I'm ordering my slotomatons to torch this entire village… including that stupid twine ball.” As he said that, his slotomatons transformed their hands into flaming torches, indicating they meant business. “I'll be waiting in the center of town. You better not be late.”

With that, he and his slotomatons departed through the wrecked doorway, leaving the dice people to consult with each other.

“Mayor, what are we going to do!?” A purple dice woman spoke up in a panic.

“I-I don't know… maybe if we gather together all our valuables-.” Rolland Stuttered.

“We already did that last time. No one has anything else to give!” A yellow dice man shouted over him.

All the dice people began shouting over one another, unsure what to do. Suddenly a loud chuckle pierced through the room. Everyone stared at Rollnaldo, who was reclined back in his chair with his feet resting on the table in front of him. “I know how we can deal with that corrupt tax collector.” He confidently smirked.

“Why should we listen to anything you have to say, you conman.” Mayor Rolland shot him an unamused look.

“Fine, let the town burn for all I care.” He retorted.

“Wait!” The mayor had a look of desperation across his face. “Alright, we'll hear you out.”

All the townsfolk stared at Rollnaldo with both curiosity and skepticism.

“The answer to our problem is sitting right beside me.” The townspeople all directed their attention to me as Rollnaldo continued. “Everyone knows that only gamblords can challenge other gamblords to a Gamble Showdown. All we need is for Lucky to challenge that mother pipper and defeat him.”

There was a momentary pause as the dice people looked at one another with unsure looks. Finally, Mayor Rolland nodded his head/torso as he spoke. “I hate to admit it, but Rollnaldo's right.” He stood in front of me and bowed his head. “Please, Gamblord. If you do this for us, I'll use my power as mayor and grant you a pardon for all your crimes.”

I looked back at him with confusion. “I would love to help you and all, but I genuinely have no idea what a Gamble Showdown is or what it has to do with me.”

“I'm starting to think that you really are from a different world…” Rollnaldo looked at me with surprise. “ By the Kasino King's decree, all gamblords have the right to challenge each other to a Gamble Showdown for any reason. The person receiving the challenge has to accept no matter what, but in turn, they are the one who chooses the type of showdown. The winner of the showdown can dictate any terms to the loser that must be granted.”

Everyone in the room stared at me with pleading puppy dog eyes. Even the giant inanimate twine ball in the corner emanated a strangely desperate aura.

“Alright, I'll do-!” As I stood up from my chair, I forgot how low the ceiling was and smacked the top of my head against it. “Ah, that hurt… but yeah like I was saying I'll do it.”

“Aright Rolland, if Lucky's going to do this, you're going to have to take off his handcuffs… and since I'm going to be doing everything in my power to support our gallant hero, I want mine off too.” It was obvious that Rollnaldo wasn’t helping this town from the kindness of his heart. He definitely was using this situation to weasel his way out of his sentencing.

Rolland put on his cowboy hat and switched back to being the sheriff. He sighed, as he hesitantly pulled out his key ring. “Fine, but don't think I won't have my eye on you, partner.”

As the sheriff removed my cuffs, the town’s people, who just a few moments ago were about to sentence me to death, were now cheering for me. “Gamblord! Gamblord! Gamblord!” They chanted.

Just when I was about to step out of the courthouse, something suddenly dawned on me…

Wait a second… I suck at gambling.

The fate of this town was riding on my shoulders. Unfortunately for these dice people, they weren't aware of the track record I had in Vegas...